Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1887-09-15


barn by the small rear door, followed
by his wondering companion. From
behind the corn-crib Joe hastily pulled
the bottom of an old pasteboard band
box.
"Shove it up under my coat, behind
quick, Tadr' he exclaimed, in an az
itated whisper, land then you go ahead
to the brook-may be l can get off
bime-by. 1t don't hurt much of any,
with this" added Joe, with a rather
sickly smile, as he touched the small of
his back significantly, ''only I've got
to get a new piece of pasteboard- this
is pretty nigh worn out"
care you coming, Joseph"
The voice was Deacon Whitney's,
and sounded from the wood-shed close
by. Tad fled ANONYMOUSLY through
the rear barn door, while Joe reluct-
antly obeyed the direful summons. Not
that Deacon Whitney was unreason-
ably harsh or stern. Indeed, his wife
said: "Joe's thrashin's hurt the deacon
dretful sight more'n they did Joe,' p
which was doubtless true. The boy
knew that his father loved him sin
cerely, and that the whippings were
not given in anger, but from a sense of
duty, and, though he would willingly
have dispensed with them, Joe never
cherished the slightest feelings of anger
or resentment, after the first smart had
passed away.
Leaving Joe to his impending fate,
Tad climbed the barn-yard fence, and
with a jubilant feeling of gladness,
which was only Swallowed by the oc-
casional thought of his new friends
disappointment, made his way down
across the deacon's meadows, to the
brook.
Tad knew nothing whatever about
trout-fishing, as a matter of course.
He had caught founders and cunners
from the piers, like most city boys
but only those. However. he had a
general idea of some of the require
ments for the piscatOrial art. So, with
very light heart, he followed the
mill brook" as it was called, through
field and an adjoining pasture, till he
came to an alder swamp, where, hav-
ing cut pole, Tad sat himself down to
shape and trim it.
Well. it was indeed a lovely morn
ing. The sky above him, flecked with
drifting white clouds, was Of the deep
est blue, the air soft and spring-ike.
and the peaceful stiffness unbroken
only by the occasional cawing of crows
or scream of bluejay.
Tad sat drinking in the beauty of the
time and place, softly whistling to him
self as he worked, and thought over the
many strange things that had come in
to his life in one short week, and all
because an absent-minded man had left
his traveling-sachel on the seat in
railroad station.
''Why, it just seems as though I'd
been swopped off for somebody else"
he said, with great sigh of thankful
ness. And though, as might be ex-
pected, Tad Thorne's religious knowl-
edge was of the vaguest possible order,
he somehow felt his heart going out
thankfully to the Maker of such a
beautiful world.
There" said Tad, as, finishing trim
ming the pole. he rose to his feet and
brushed off the twigs, ''now for the
trout"
The brook went dancing and laugh
ing along at his side, with here and
there mimic waterfall, at the foot Of
which the foam and bubbles drifted
about in frothy masses.
With fingers trembling little with
excitement, Tad fastened his line, with
its heavy sinker and hook large enough
for black bass, to the end of the pole.
Adjusting the bait. he threw his line
into the deepest part of the pool.
81 guess 1t isn't very good day for
trout. any way" he murmured, after
about five minutes of letting his line
drift along in the current, and pulling
it up again. But stop! little tug at
the hook sent thrill from his finger
tips to his toes! With a jerk that
would have landed a three-pound trout,
Tad pulled out club about four inches
long, which, with hook, line and sink
er, was immediately entangled in the
alder branches over his head, requiring
some ten minutes of perspiring effort to
clear it.
Trout amt as big as thought for,''
he said, half aloud, as he surveyed his
prize. at must take an awful lot of
'em to make u mess" Tad added. |